


to die would be an awfully big adventure

by vype



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M, Shenanigans, ghost!Marco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 12:35:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vype/pseuds/vype
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his death, Marco begins to haunt Jean.</p><p>Or maybe not.</p><p>...</p><p>This ghost thing might take a little getting used to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to die would be an awfully big adventure

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme prompt: http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/2124.html?thread=1770316#cmt1770316

**i.**

Marco wakes up with the right side of his face tingling. He raises a hand- his _left_ one- up to scratch, and isn't that surprised when he realizes it's translucent.

**ii.**

Trost looks worse for wear.

"Wow," Marco says. He can still hear himself just fine, but he doubts anyone else can too. "This is weird." Well sure, he saw the destruction that the titans had wreaked during the battle, but now, when it's calmer, it somehow seems... almost magnificent, in a way? It's a feeling he can't quite put into words, but the destruction of his hometown isn't evoking the emotions that it should. Maybe it's just being dead.

He swings his head around to look; he doesn't have half of his face anymore so his only functioning eye is his left one, though he's not sure why he can still feel the right one when he blinks. Also a likely side effect of being dead. "Hello?"

Nobody but the wind.

He wanders around Trost for a bit. There still aren't any people in the streets. The entire place could be a ghost town.

(Heh. Ghost town. Marco snickers briefly at the joke- not an easy feat with only half a mouth- before realizing how completely stupid it was and switches to being mildly disgusted with himself; what, did his sense of humor die with him?)

Eventually, he discovers that he can fly. He zips around a block or two, ducking in buildings through the windows. Except that one time he didn't fly through the window so much as miss the window entirely and went straight through the wall. You know what else he missed? Depth perception.

Still, he can fly.

"Cool," he says.

**iii.**

"Marco?"

He blinks. "Franz?"

They look at each other for a few minutes; now that they're dead and not under attack, they have all the time in the world. "You look terrible," Franz says, eventually.

Marco instinctively reaches his left hand to his right cheek. "I suppose. Getting bitten in half will do that to you."

Franz snorts. "Don't talk to me about getting bitten in half." He gestures down towards his torso- literally, since that's all that's left. Legs? What are these legs you speak of?

"Oh."

This is a very awkward silence. Marco shuffles a bit, glancing around. "Have you seen anyone else?"

Franz shrugs. "Thomas was arguing with some other people about how many titans he killed. Um. There were some people from the Garrison around. Lots of them, actually. One of them had his head bitten off, it was a bit weird. He was still talking, but he just didn't have a head."

"Oh," Marco says again.

"I haven't seen Hannah yet, though." Well, it's something to be happy about. Franz smiles, tinged with the slightest bit of melancholy.

"What about Jean?" Marco asks. If he had a working heart, its drumbeat would be the only sound echoing in his ears. As it stands, though, the only thing echoing is the wind blowing into his skull. He can't keep the hopeful tone out of his voice when he asks (though there's a part of him that's not sure exactly what he's hoping for: that Jean is alive, or that Jean is dead.

He doesn't like this part of him much. He rather wishes that that part had been eaten instead.)

Franz shakes his head. "No, haven't seen him."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks anyway."

Franz nods. "Well, I think I might be off a bit. Look around. Find things to do. You know... Things. Ghostly things."

"Ah, sure. See you around." Marco waves with his right hand, before remembering that it doesn't exist anymore and Franz won't be able to see it. But by then, Franz has already drifted off into the distance, as if he were being carried away by the breeze.

**iv.**

Marco drifts aimlessly for a while. He doesn't run into anyone else, but after a bit, he slowly becomes aware of a tugging sensation somewhere in his gut. Not the 'eren-on-kitchen-duty-oh-god-my-bowels' kind of tugging in his gut, the 'i-really-need-to-be-somewhere' kind of tugging in his gut.

It's directing him out of Trost, to somewhere safely beyond Wall Rose. Marco briefly ponders flying up and over the wall, but he's had enough flying practice- might as well try out intangibility, because it would make for some _awesome_ pranks that he and Jean and Connie could pull on the others, like, he's already thinking of some now- oh.

But, anyway, intangibility practice. Right.

Marco phases through Wall Rose.

And immediately he wishes he didn't.

When he emerges on the other side, he has to stop for a while to catch his breath. Not that he really needs to breathe, but _holy shit there are titans inside the wall._

And not titans like the one that killed him, but titans like the one that kicked down Wall Maria, gigantic sleeping titans _in the fucking wall_ and Marco really needs a moment to breathe. His lungs- lung, rather- doesn't seem to be responding, but his chest keeps heaving anyway.

"Okay," he says after a while. "Okay. Let's never do that again."

And then he continues.

**v.**

So that's where the tugging is from.

Marco feels very warm. That is partly to do with the bonfire (though whether it's because his body is being burned or because he can still feel temperature, he's not too sure) and partly to do with the realization that Jean is carrying him around in his pocket. Blood doesn't flow through his incorporeal body anymore, but he's sure that he's blushing, somehow.

"I'm joining the Scouting Legion," Jean says.

Marco blinks. "What?" he asks. He doesn't get an answer, nor does he really expect one. When Jean walks through him in order to get a moment alone, Marco doesn't react. That much. Just a bit of a startled jump is normal, really. It's frighteningly easy to adjust to being a ghost.

Jean doesn't say anything for a while, stewing in his solitude, and Marco watches as the other's eyes grow watery. Jean closes his fist around the chip of his bone like his life depends on it- for a brief moment, Marco is entirely unsettled by the thought that perhaps, Jean's _continued_ state of aliveness _does_ depend on it.

Eventually, Jean raises his hand to his mouth, and whispers into his wrist, "I won't let you happen again. I swear on my life."

Marco swallows, because it isn't right to see Jean like this. Jean is cocky and boastful and amazing and not- not broken, because _he's_ the broken one, and Jean is whole and-

He doesn't remember when it happens, but he floats over and places his forehead against Jean's. "I won't let you become me," he whispers to someone who can never hear him, and these words settle into his soul like welcome shackles.

**vi.**

He's getting a bit bored, honestly. He can't talk to anyone, and he just passes through people and things, and while it is nice to be able to watch everyone, he sometimes wishes he could talk to them again. Even for a bit. Just a few words.

...Maybe he could even settle for just one word.

**vii.**

Oh, this is _awesome._

It had started out as an accident. After a couple days of hanging about and not doing much of anything except following a bunch of people around, he had just gotten so frustrated that he wasn't watching where he was going, and then he threw out his arms with a huff in a final desperate bid to attract attention and then he whacked Connie on the head.

"Hey!" Connie yells, rubbing the back of his head. "What was that for, Bert?"

"E-eh?" Bertholdt looks panicked. "What did I do?"

"You hit me!"

"No I didn't!"

Marco stares in shock at his left hand, glances back up to the brewing argument- calmed down after a few words from Christa, unsurprisingly- and then back to his hand.

He was frustrated. He wanted to lash out. He wanted to hit something.

Ok, purpose. Marco tries to summon some of the earlier irritation, and experimentally tries poking Sasha in the shoulder. He doesn't feel it, but Sasha turns her head, searching for the source of the touch."Ooh." Marco looks down at his hand, smiling widely. This being dead business has just gotten infinitely more interesting.

**viii.**

He has far too much fun with the first week. He waits until everyone's asleep and then steals Reiner's socks, hiding them throughout the barracks. He turns everyone's clothes inside out. He pushes papers off of tables. Taps random people on the shoulder while they're in the middle of conversations. He trips some older soldiers who are being rude to Armin. Once, he even swiped Corporal Levi's cravat and placed it inside Eren's room- he feels vaguely sorry for Eren, but he thinks of this as revenge for all the times throughout their trainee years that Eren had nearly poisoned them all, and suddenly everything's fine again.

He'd never be able to do all of this- never mind get away with it- if he were still alive.

Still, he really does wish he were alive. It's very lonely being a ghost.

**ix.**

HELLO JEAN

ITS MARCO

IM HERE

SO IM A GHOST NOW AND I KNOW IT SOUNDS CRAZY BUT IM ALWAYS WATCHING OUT FOR YOU

I MISS BEING WITH YOU

I MISS YOU

PLEASE DONT FORGET ME

DONT DIE JEAN

DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO CARRY ME AROUND IN YOUR POCKET

DID YOU KNOW THAT YOU SUCK YOUR THUMB WHEN YOU SLEEP ITS VERY CUTE

I LOV

Late at night, you can hear the sound of someone inside the armory shuffling around all the blades. Eventually though, you will hear a gust of wind that sounds like a sigh and then the sound of the blades being put back in their places.

In the morning, everything will be exactly as it was the previous day. Not a hair out of place.

**x.**

There's an expedition outside the walls today.

Marco promised that day, he wouldn't let Jean become him. As fun as being dead can be, getting there is not nearly as fun. And it isn't worth it. Though, there's not much he can do to actually help Jean in a titan attack, he acknowledges that. Being able to poke titans, what a fat load of good that would do in a fight.

So, the last measure of protection he can give, then. Marco waits until Jean isn't looking, too busy with fiddling around with the straps of his gear, then reaches down for one of Jean's blades. And, gently, quietly, he presses a kiss against the handle.

"Good luck," he murmurs against the metal, before slotting the blade back into place. "I'll be waiting for you. And I expect to be waiting for a very long time."


End file.
